Return of the Dragon (The Dragon's Champion Book 6) (31 page)

BOOK: Return of the Dragon (The Dragon's Champion Book 6)
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Epilogue

 

 

Jaleal stretched out his hand and grasped the brass
knob on his door. The round, wooden portal squeaked as he pulled it out to him.
The room inside was dark, and held a damp, musty odor inside. It seemed to the
gnome that no one had bothered to air the place out during his absence.

That wasn’t surprising. Most of his folk didn’t even
bother to welcome him back today either.

He entered and walked down the short flight of stairs
to the main level inside. He lit the lantern hanging from the ceiling and then
shook out the match’s flame. He looked around his home, watching the shadows
play off the lantern as it spun upon its chain. A thick layer of dust had
gathered atop the small table and chair in his dining area. Mold had all but
consumed a plate that Jaleal could only guess had once held bread.

“Well, ma always told me to clean up after myself,” he
said sarcastically as his eyes landed on the furry green and white glob growing
on the table. “Guess she was right.” He turned and gently slid his mithril
spear into a set of iron brackets adjacent to the doorway. Then he moved
farther into his home, heading for his green velvet arm chair.

Something moved in the darkness. At first Jaleal
thought it was a shadow, but the more his eyes adjusted to the room, he
realized it was not a shadow, but a black boot sticking out from the armchair
and set upon the footstool.

Jaleal circled around the chair. How could someone
have taken his home already? That was not the gnome way.

As he moved around the side of the chair he saw a stout
gnome with a long, white beard. The intruder’s hands were resting upon his
slightly bulging belly and he was snoring softly.

Jaleal kicked the intruder’s feet from the footstool.

The other gnome woke with a start, snorting and
jerking his hands out to the side to catch himself.

“What, what?
Who is it?” The
gnome looked up at Jaleal and then he smiled. “Oh, it’s you! I have ben waiting
for you.”

“Who are
you,
and what are
you doing in my house?” Jaleal asked. Then he glanced over to the moldy plate
on the table. Flustered, he pointed to it and shouted at the intruder. “And for
Terra’s sake, how can you invade my home without the decency to clean up such a
disgraceful mess?!”

The other gnome frowned and looked to the table. He
shrugged. “I have only just arrived an hour or so ago. I would have cleaned if
you had taken longer to return, I suppose.”

Jaleal grimaced and folded his arms over his chest.
“Waiting for me? Why?”

The other gnome rose to his feet and bowed graciously.
“I am Phinean, Sergeant of the Svetli’Tai Council of Svatal.”

“Svatal?”
Jaleal repeated as
he drew his brow together. “But, Svatal Island is many months by sea beyond the
Barrier Reef, what could you possibly be doing here?”

Phinean shook his head. “No, by sea it would take more
than a year to get to Svatal, and it would only work if the Barrier Reef were
not enchanted into a great ring of fire that blocks all ships from entering or
leaving that entire area.”

“You traveled more than a year to see me? Why?”

“Good heavens, no!” Phinean said quickly. “I used
magic! I came as quickly as I could. It is a matter of the utmost urgency.”

Jaleal narrowed his eyes on Phinean. “What?” he
barked. The warrior-gnome was quickly losing his patience.

Phinean pointed to the small sack slung over Jaleal’s
left shoulder. “He said you would have it. The Goresym, do you have it?”

Jaleal thought of the magical crystal tucked safely
into his sack. How could Phinean know of it? More importantly, what did he want
with it? Jaleal held out his left hand and Aeolbani, his magical mithril spear
appeared in his palm. He gripped the weapon and leveled the point at Phinean’s
throat. “You had better speak
plainly,
else I will end
your nonsensical words.”

Phinean blanched. “Quite right,” he said with a slight
nod. “Perhaps I should start from the beginning. I was sent to you by Jahre, he
is the oldest and wisest of the elf sages on Svatal Island. He was there when
King Lemork led a war to crush the Svetli’Tai race.” Phinean paused and waited
for a reaction. Jaleal stood stoic. Phinean frowned. “King Lemork was a dark
elf, a Tomni’Tai, a sister race of the Sierri’Tai dark elves.”

“I know who the Tomni’Tai
are
,”
Jaleal said impatiently.

Phinean nodded, glancing nervously to the spear’s
point aimed at his throat. “Well, did you know that King Lemork rode upon a
black dragon in his war with the other elf races?” Again he paused, but again
Jaleal didn’t respond. Phinean stamped a foot in frustration. “Oh, must I spell
it out for you?! King Lemork rode upon one of the Ancients, the black dragon
who shall not be named! He wielded a great sword fashioned from that very
monster and nearly consumed the Elven Isles of Svatal and Xlemt in his rage and
bloodlust.”

“When did this happen?” Jaleal asked, his tone now
showing a bit more concern.

“Five hundred years ago,” Phinean responded.

“So why seek out the Goresym now?” Jaleal pressed.

“Because we need it!”
Phinean
said impatiently. “The sage, Jahre, said that a great wrrior, named Talon, will
come from the continent north of Svatal. This man is more than a simple warrior
though,
he is a cunning assassin and has great
potential for either good or evil. Jahre said that Talon will come to Svatal
looking for powerful artifacts that could disrupt the balance of Terramyr.”

“How can one man do that?” Jaleal asked. In his mind
he thought of each of the warlocks and wizards that Erik had fought with. Even
they had to have the help of Tu’luh.

“Don’t you see?” Phinean asked. The fear was evident
in his wide eyes and nervous fidgeting. “The assassin now wields Lemork’s
sword. The black dragon is the Patron of Chaos. The sword is born out of the
black dragon’s bone and as such, the weapon itself has a mind and power all its
own. It will corrupt the warrior, and he will turn to use the power he attains
to destroy everything around him. If he succeeds in finding the other sacred
relics, then he will be unstoppable.”

“Why do you need me?” Jaleal pressed.

“Because, with the Goresym, we might be able to
counter the sword’s magic and restore balance. If we can do that, then there is
still hope for him, and hope for us.”

“And if we can’t restore balance?” Jaleal pressed.

Phinean shook his head. “Then we must kill Talon
before he finds all of the relics. Otherwise, he will set Terramyr on a
collision path with a terrible and dreadful power known only as the four
horsemen.”

Jaleal stiffened. He had not expected that. He brought
his spear away from Phinean and nodded slowly. “As a gnome, it is my duty to
restore balance. More than that, as one of Terramyr’s races, I am honor-bound
to defend her against all
calamity
. I know of a great
warrior who would be useful to us. He too is struggling for a way to stop the
arrival of the four horsemen.”

“Oh you can’t prevent them from coming,” Phinean said
quickly. “But, if Talon succeeds in attaining all three relics, plus the sword,
then they will come sooner, and we will never stand a chance. The world will be
turned to ash, and Talon would help them do it.”

“Then we must go and get Erik, we need his power.”

Phinean shook his head. “There is no time! Talon may
already have the Tomni’Tai Scroll, and if he were to get the King’s Ring and
the key as well, then it will be too late. Come, we must go now!” Phinean
reached out and took hold of Jaleal’s hand. A flash of blue and silver light
washed over them, and then the room was empty again.

 

You can follow Talon’s
adventures in the Netherworld Gate Series:

 

The Netherworld Gate Series:

The Tomni’Tai Scroll

The King’s Ring

Son of the Dragon

 
 

The
Dragon’s Champion Series:

The Dragon’s Champion

The Warlock Senator

The Dragon’s Test

Erik and the Dragon

The Immortal Mystic

Return of the Dragon

 
 

The Dragons of Kendualdern:

Ascension

 
 

Other Novels:

Dimwater’s Dragon

Jonathan Haymaker

 
 

Short Story Anthology:

Tales from Terramyr

 
 

For the latest updates,
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Sam’s
Author Page
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About the
Author

 

 

Sam Ferguson is a fairly
average guy.

That’s it.

No, really, that’s it.

Oh- you are actually reading
this?

 

Well… the truth is that Sam is a very
lucky
guy. He juggles work in such a way that he makes sure to spend enough time with
his loving wife and six sons. His goal is to make writing his fulltime career
so he can have even more time with them (assuming they can handle having him
around that much every day…). If he can carve out an extra hour for himself
during the day, he’ll hit the gym to try and regain the body he used to have in
his youth (but he eats too much junk food to ever accomplish that goal).

He spent nearly five years serving as a U.S. Diplomat
and absolutely loved the experience, but decided to move back home. Outside of
the U.S. he has lived in Latvia, Hungary, and Armenia. He speaks Russian,
Hungarian, and Armenian. (He used to speak some Latvian too, but he has no one
to practice with anymore…)

He also has two dogs.

He plays the Elder Scrolls
series.

His favorite superhero is
Wolverine, but Batman is a close second.

If the kids go to bed at a
reasonable hour, he will cuddle up with his wife to watch Scrubs reruns, the
Big Bang Theory, Castle, or Burn Notice.

See, really just an average
guy after all.

 

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